


Overtime

by hanmajoerin



Category: Kyoukai no Rinne | Rin-ne
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanmajoerin/pseuds/hanmajoerin
Summary: Ever since she could see ghosts, Sakura wasn’t afraid of death. Maybe she was afraid of dying, but not what happened afterwards; then she met Rinne, and it was suddenly too hard to be afraid of dying, too.
Relationships: Mamiya Sakura/Rokudou Rinne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Overtime

Overtime

The last time Rinne wore that expression was five minutes after Sakura wheeled her life—three suitcases, two purses, and one overstuffed backpack—into the center of his studio apartment. Sakura was practically wheezing as she said,  _ "I want to live with you, Rinne." _ It was more of a demand than a request, and once she could stand without having to brace her knees, Sakura shrugged her purses and backpack right into the apartment's entryway. 

She refused to let Rinne tell her no, a word that appeared to be resting on the edge of his open mouth. She supposed that it shouldn’t have surprised her though when his response finally came.  _ “You deserve more than this.” _

Rinne wasn’t necessarily wrong. The place he and Rokumon called home was maybe three steps above Sankai High’s rundown clubhouse. There was a clunky A/C unit that was barely used, a musty aroma that clung to some of Tamako’s old furniture, and a dingy light that hung in the center of the studio apartment’s main room. It was a far cry from a dream home, but Sakura wasn’t looking for that. She’d been looking for him. Sweating through her skin during the summer and shivering regardless of how many sweaters she piled on during the winter didn’t seem all that bad if she and Rinne could continue passing on souls together. That’s why, even after all of this time, she stood by her response to him.  _ “It’s enough.” _

Earlier today Sakura stood next to Rinne at her own funeral; it was a bit weird to watch since she felt very much alive, but she stayed in place, hand clamped onto Rinne's shoulder. The _shinigami_ wore an indifferent expression although he stood as rigid as a wooden plank. Death and finding peace were everyday occurrences for both of them she hadn't meant to change, but it was likely all he was thinking about. He was nodding his head, playing along, but she bet he was figuring out how much time was left. Sakura wondered if she should recycle her words from over sixty years ago, but didn’t. Call it intuition, but she figured that the phrase, “it’s enough,” wouldn't have the same effect now. _"I'm right here,"_ was all she decided to say whenever his voice strained while talking to her relatives and friends.

After the funeral, Rinne remained in one of her father's black suits, and because he didn't look a day over thirty-five, it continued to fit better than any glove. The dress shoes he wore were weathered, faded. They belonged to Rinne’s grandfather. The outsoles were thin yet Sakura heard each step he took in the afterlife; it was as if they were somehow tangled in the dirt, and he needed to drag himself forward. 

They just made it to the street vendors bordering the Entry of Contentedness when it hit Sakura. A new kind of silence was stretching between them that felt out of place, or rather, dated. The two spent most of their lives together, so now was the oddest time to feel like high schoolers again. That's why Sakura hooked her arm around the familiar folds of the  _ haori _ of the underworld. Her hand easily slid down to Rinne’s. With all its sunken skin and protruding veins, Sakura often wondered if it was weird for her hand to sit in his. Rinne never mentioned anything, even when she was alive. He offered her a gentle albeit forced smile. 

"I remember the last few times I was here," Sakura confessed, sounding surprisingly chipper as she took in all the new old faces. "Back when I ripped your  _ haori _ sleeve, everyone kept asking me if I had any unfinished business and they were so happy that I forgot I had to return it. I think I really understand them now, though." 

Rinne offered her another crooked smile, one that was nowhere near as genuine as his salesman’s smile. "That's because it's easy to get swept up in the atmosphere of this area."

"Are you happy now?" Sakura inquired, not bothering to listen to his response. She was lucky, dying an old woman. Although she tended to walk slower, she could walk ten times faster than the stroll Rinne took her on. She wasn’t the one with the attachments. "I wonder what Ageha will do once she realizes I'm gone," Sakura said, staring at the string of red lanterns lining the strip.

"She's still trying to take my old man down; probably won't be back for a while..."

Sakura nodded, watching as one of the elderly men tried catching a goldfish. "That boot-camp her parents sent her to really helped. I never thought she'd learn to pass on souls like you... it definitely made things easier for Oboro."

"Yeah," Rinne hummed and Sakura squeezed his hand. "Jumonji's going to throw an entire briefcase of holy ash at me when I tell him you made it to the wheel," he mumbled, finally looking down at Sakura. His eyes shined like glass. He chuckled alongside her. 

"Don’t forget to respond to his new year's letter when you get home," Sakura chided.

In their senior year of high school, Tsubasa transferred again. He promised he'd be back to date Sakura, but once he finally found his exorcism niche, that promise was too difficult to keep. Instead of returning, Tsubasa wrote Sakura a letter every year. After a while, he finally stopped signing them with "Love."

Was it even possible for Sakura to feel more warmth now? She was a content spirit, but the sight of Rinne scoffing and wearing such a nostalgic expression somehow made her feel lighter. "Isn't Tsubasa more tolerable than Matsugo though?" They hadn't seen him since college.

"Sakura Mamiya!" Rinne blurted out, throwing her arm away from his. Sakura couldn’t help but laugh; she hadn’t been called that in decades.

"At least Shoma didn't turn out too bad, right?" The overambitious  _ shinigami  _ inherited his family fortune but still had a lot to learn when it came to pacifying spirits. Rinne helped him out from time to time. "Oh, do you remember when my mother passed? She was so shocked that you offered to lead her to the Wheel of Reincarnation and even more surprised that I could see her."

"Yeah, and your dad tried to kill me when he died; he almost turned into an evil spirit," Rinne added. "Would've been better if he did. At least then I would've gotten a better reward..."

Sakura sighed and stared at the sky above them. It was a mesh of bright colors. Pinks and yellows, soft reds and blues. Whirlpools twirled above them like ballet dancers. Maybe if she didn't know what would happen next, she would've gazed upwards stiffly like her husband. "Did Auntie Tamako tell you how I'll come back?" She asked, leaning against his shoulder as they arrived at the Sanzu River.

Countless adorable boats eased downstream,  _ shinigami  _ and black cats guiding spirits like employees of a theme park. Death and peace, everyday occurrences. Ends followed by new beginnings, an inevitable process. Rinne swept Sakura up bridal style and she leaned her head against his heart. There was no peace to be experienced by listening to it, but Sakura shouldn’t have expected to find comfort in him. They flew over the Sanzu River and Rinne hummed in agreement to Sakura’s question. "You'll be a calico." 

And then they arrived at the line, and she was set down. Sakura stared at the stupefied, blissful faces around them. They encouraged her to shed the oncoming urges to memorize every feature on Rinne's face. Sakura Rokudo’s last ties. 

"I've had so much fun in this life, and it's all because of you." 

The way his shoulders tensed and his mouth quivered when she said stuff like that always made her laugh. "R-really?"

Sakura nodded vigorously, moving in time with the line of souls waiting to step onto the Wheel of Reincarnation. "Yup. Promise you'll find me again so we can make new memories in my next life."

"Alright..." Rinne agreed as a blush blew across the bridge of his nose. "I'll do it."

Rinne lifted her by the waist onto one of the translucent red tiles, planting her square in the center. When Sakura was settled, he interlocked their fingers. "Great," she began, not fighting the pull the wheel had on their grip. "Now I truly have no attachments."

Rinne’s feet lifted off the ground, keeping their hands level. He ignored the idle chatter surrounding them, attempting to mirror Sakura’s carefree attitude. She may have been ready, but he wasn’t. "Excuse me, Sir," a pig-masked worker interrupted, tugging on the bottom of his  _ haori _ . Maybe it was the spot where the man tugged, but it brought Rinne back to when Sakura used to tug on the sleeve of his office blazer. She’d remind him that, “The only person we should be pacifying until 6:30PM is the manager," as countless spirits wandered through the surrounding cubicles. The memories from their working days seemed so small in light of where they were now and he didn't know what to do. " _ Shinigami _ are not permitted beyond this point, please step back onto the platform." 

"Right. Sorry," Rinne mumbled, slowly lowering himself until Sakura's hand slid too easily out of his.

She shrunk before his eyes, her spirit becoming more translucent the higher up she went. It took every scrap of courage Rinne had to keep focused. He searched Sakura’s entire face for the moments when they were in high school and he walked a tightrope with their relationship. Her backpack was gone, her uniform was gone, and she hadn't put her hair in braids after their coworker Yumi made fun of her for it, but maybe—just maybe— he'd be able to go back. The years were there after all, lined up along the lines of her face.

"Goodbye,” Sakura said, although he couldn’t really hear her. She waved to him. She asked him to find her. It was a naïve request; humans never lived the same life twice. 

"Goodbye, Sakura," Rinne whispered, waving back at his most treasured person as she rounded the top, lost in the Wheel of Reincarnation’s magnificent reds and golds.

-X-

Rinne told Rokumon that he'd return home after guiding Sakura to the Wheel of Reincarnation, but his entire body sagged like a sodden, rotten log. It would be too hard to look at anyone without feeling as if he were troubling them.

"Granny," Rinne stated loudly, sliding the door open and walking into Tamako's house. It was the only place he could stand to be. She was the only one who would understand. 

Like clockwork, Tamako materialized to twist her knuckles against Rinne's temples. He was still standing in the  _ genkan _ . "How many times do I have to tell you not to—Rinne!" 

She probably hadn't expected his forehead to fly from her knuckles to her shoulder. Or for the momentum to send them toppling into the hallway. "Rinne?" She asked, raising a brow at the chipped, worn dress shoes his toes dangled over. His back and shoulders rose and fell without rhythm and he wrapped his arms around her but the action brought no comfort. Tamako pushed him back, and Rinne wished she would have let him stay hidden. His eyes glistened as he took deep breaths. "What kind of  _ shinigami _ are you—crying over something as common as death?"

"I'm a human, kind of thing."

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Polished, but pulled straight from the vault of 2015. Please excuse slightly dated versions of Rinne and Sakura, I wrote this prior to the end of the series.


End file.
